The party on board the Aurora distinctly heard the sounds of the conflict, and waited in breathless expectancy for its termination. They had not long to wait; in little over a couple of minutes Captain Leicester’s voice was heard giving the order to shift the helm—the brig having in the meantime gone round until she was head to wind with her canvas flat aback—and to trim over the head-sheets. Then a chorus of curses, both loud and deep, from the deck of the Aurora, proclaimed the chagrin of the Frenchmen on board her at the—to them—extraordinary and unforeseen result of the adventure.
But their captain was a man of indomitable pluck, energy, and readiness of resource, and by no means given to a tame and immediate acceptance of defeat. He realised the situation in a moment, and, determining to make the best of a bad bargain, promptly ordered sail to be crowded upon the Aurora, in the hope of effecting his escape. The night being dark, however, and his men new to the ship, the work went on but slowly; and by the time that the topgallantsails were sheeted home, his own brig was once more alongside, with two red lights hoisted to her gaff-end (the alarm-signal), her ports open, guns run out, and the men standing by them ready to open fire.
As she drew up abreast the Aurora, George hailed—
“Barque ahoy! Let fly your sheets and halliards at once, and surrender, or I will fire into you!”
“All right,” was the reply from the French captain; “you have won the game, monsieur, so I will not attempt to rob you of the credit of victory. You managed the affair exceedingly well, mon ami, and have taught me a lesson I shall remember for the rest of my life. You may come on board and take possession as soon as you like.”
He then gave the necessary orders in French to his crew; the halliards and sheets were let fly on board the Aurora, George reducing sail at the same time in the brig, and the two vessels, losing way, began gradually to drop into the rear portion of the convoy.
Captain Leicester did not, however, accept the French captain’s invitation to go on board and take possession once more of his own ship; that proceeding would have been just a trifle too risky. He had the game in his own hands, and intended to keep it there; so he quietly waited until one of the men-o’-war should come alongside, as he knew would soon be the case, in response to his signal.
In a short time another brig was seen approaching under a perfect cloud of sail, an unmistakably English gun-brig this time, however. Sweeping up on the port quarter of George’s prize, an officer sprang into the main-rigging, and hailed—
“Brig ahoy! What brig is that?”
“The Jeune Virginie, French privateer,” answered George. “She managed, somehow, to slip in among the fleet unobserved in the darkness, and threw a heavy boarding-party in on the deck of my vessel—the Aurora I suspected her designs just in time, however, and as her crew boarded me, I boarded her, and succeeded in taking possession; the two ships separating immediately and thus preventing the return of the French to their own craft.”